


5 Times AZ Made Wikstrom Blush (And One Time Wikstrom Returned the Favor)

by ViimaTheFailcat



Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blushing, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-04-24 07:54:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4911436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViimaTheFailcat/pseuds/ViimaTheFailcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times when Wikstrom met AZ and found himself flustered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times AZ Made Wikstrom Blush (And One Time Wikstrom Returned the Favor)

**Author's Note:**

> Take a drink every time the word "blush" or "flustered" or "color rose to his cheeks" is used.
> 
> Anyway, there were no King'sshieldshipping fics, so... What IS it with me and ships no one else ships?!

 

**1.**

 

The first time Wikstrom met the immortal king, he was visiting Professor Sycamore’s laboratory with Duchess Diantha, Duchess Serena and the rest of the Elite Four. As the professor was nowhere to be found, Duchess Serena ran off to look for him, leaving the Elite Four members and Duchess Diantha wait for them.

 

Siebold and Malva made annoyed noises and Drasna was smiling as serenely as ever. Diantha smiled apologetically for them.

 

“I am very sorry. He probably forgot he was supposed to meet us today. Dear Augustine is very busy...” Duchess said, trailing off as something piqued her attention.

 

“ _Bitweene Merch and Averil_ …”

 

“Goodness, what lovely singing,” Drasna smiled, lifting her palm to her cheek.

 

“... _When spray biginneth to springe_ …”

 

“Is there a radio on somewhere?” Siebold asked.

 

“... _The litel fowl hath hire wil_ …”

 

“No,” Wikstrom spoke up, recognizing the song, “They don’t play that on the radio…” He started walking towards the voice, set on finding the source.

 

“... _On hire leod to singe_ …”

 

The voice lead Wikstrom (and the rest of the Elite Four, with the Duchess) to an indoor garden, where a group of various pokemon were gathered around an incredibly tall fellow with a thick white braid trailing down his back.

 

“... _Ich libbe in love-longinge_ …”

 

The man was singing as he fed the pokemon, but Wikstrom was more occupied with the man’s gentle and low voice, how it carried the melody Wikstrom knew by heart. How the voice resonated in Wikstrom’s chest, making him feel warm.

 

“... _For semlokest of alle thing_ e…”

 

Wikstrom’s lips moved, mouthing the lyrics as the other sang them.

 

“... _Heo may me bli_ -” A Garchomp approached the tall man and poked him with its snout, making his voice cut off. “Now, now, small one. You’ll get your share too,” the man said, easily towering over the pokemon.

 

The Garchomp growled and pointed its head towards the Elite Four. The man turned, revealing that right half of his face was hidden by his thick white hair. His visible eye widened in surprise. “Oh. Forgive me, I did not hear you.”

 

Duchess Diantha was the first one to recover. “Oh no, forgive us for sneaking up on you,” she smiled.

 

“You have a lovely singing voice,” Drasna complimented, “We thought there was a radio on.”

 

The man smiled and looked down bashfully. “Why, thank you…”

 

“What was the song you were singing?” Drasna asked.

 

“It’s something I heard a long time ago,” the man said, “The name I have forgotten a long time ago, unfortunately.”

 

“It’s called Alisoun,” Wikstrom said, “Or Alison.”

 

The tall man’s gaze landed on Wikstrom, taking his appearance in. Wikstrom felt himself get flushed further. “You know of it?”

 

“Ah… yes, yes I do. It’s one of my favorite songs.” Wikstrom felt himself starting to smile.

 

The man smiled too, making Wikstrom’s stomach feel odd.

 

Luckily, that was the moment when Duchess Serena and Professor Sycamore arrived, saving Wikstrom from further embarrassment.

 

**2.**

 

The next time Wikstrom met the tall fellow (whose name was AZ, as Professor Sycamore told them, the tall man was also the person who challenged Champion Serena after the parade and more importantly, the king who’s been rumored to be immortal for 3,000 years!), it was at the premiere of Duchess Diantha’s latest movie.

 

It wasn’t too hard to spot him since his height made him tower over everyone else.

 

He was chatting with Professor Sycamore, Floette sitting on his shoulder. He was wearing a deep red three-piece suit and his hair was neatly gathered to a ponytail with a red ribbon.

 

He was a stunning sight.

 

The professor saw them approaching and smiled widely. “Oh, the Elite Four are here. AZ, you remember them, don’t you?” the professor asked.

 

“I do, we met at your lab,” AZ said, “It’s lovely to meet you again.”

 

“Goodness, you clean up well,” Drasna smiled, taking the words right out of Wikstrom’s very dry mouth.

 

AZ smiled bashfully and looked down, making the rapunzel-like ponytail shift on his shoulder. “Why, thank you, madam...” he grasped for words, “Forgive me, for I have forgotten your name already…”

 

“It’s Drasna, dear,” Drasna giggled, “It’s fine, we’ve only met once. These are Malva, Siebold and…”

 

“Wikstrom,” AZ smiled, “I do remember you.”

 

Wikstrom could feel heat rising inside shirt collar already. He could hear Malva make the sound she always did when she suppressed a giggle. Wikstrom ignored her and put on a smile that hopefully didn’t look as nervous as he felt.

 

“I am honored to hear that, monsieur,” Wikstrom managed to say, voice more hoarse than he would have preferred.

 

“Wow, Wikstrom,” Malva smirked, “You sound really hoarse. Your throat must be really dry.”

 

“You and AZ should go get drinks,” Drasna said with a smile.

 

Wikstrom glanced at AZ, who was still smiling at him. Wikstrom was sure he was definitely blushing now.

 

“Shall we?” AZ asked.

 

Wikstrom just nodded wordlessly, not trusting his voice.

 

They went to get drinks for their group in silence.

 

“Do you know many old songs?” AZ spoke up.

 

“A few,” Wikstrom said modestly, “Medieval music and poetry is kind of a hobby for me.”

 

“Poetry too?”

 

“Well… yes. Anything medieval, if I’m to be honest.” Wikstrom smiled sheepishly.

 

“Really?” AZ asked.

 

“Yes. I have an- it’s… a... hobby.” Wikstrom cringed at himself on the inside. Could he sound more awkward? He hurried to elaborate: “Music, poetry, literature, food, you understand.”

 

“I do,” AZ said, nodding solemnly. There was a pause as the two got the drinks.

 

“You don’t often see people wearing a full armor these days,” AZ mused.

 

Wikstrom smiled bashfully. “Well, I am the steel-type expert. I have to look the part, do I not?”

 

AZ chuckled, his visible eye glinting. “I have to admit, I’ve always been curious as to how one puts the armor on. Or takes it off…”

 

Wikstrom’s cheeks were immediately red again. _Did he just…?! Surely he didn't...!_

 

Luckily that was when Siebold appeared to help them to carry the drinks.

 

**3.**

 

“You _made_ these?” AZ asked, wonder in his voice. Right now he was hidden behind a curtain, changing to a skillfully made replica of ceremonial robes that he used to wear 3,000 years ago.

 

Wikstrom rubbed the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. “My mother taught me to sew.”

 

Wikstrom heard AZ chuckle and a sound of fabric moving. “Cooking, making mead, metalwork and now sowing. Is there anything you _can’t_ do?”

 

Wikstrom chuckled too. “I couldn’t fix a car even if my life depen...ded…” The curtain was pushed aside and Wikstrom’s voice trailed off.

 

AZ stepped out, wearing the robes, Floette whirling around him, fixing his headband and hair. The bright colours made his hair look whiter than usual, but brought out his dark eyes. The robes were loose enough to hide his shapes, but the collar was low enough to show a sliver of his collar bones.

 

“How do I look?” AZ asked, smiling bashfully.

 

Wikstrom’s mouth opened and closed, fumbling for words. “Stunning.”

 

AZ’s smile widened and Wikstrom felt himself blushing again. He was starting to sense a pattern within the interactions he had with AZ.

 

**4.**

 

“There are so many foods I’ve yet to try,” AZ said, a hint of wonder in his voice. Right now he was holding a chocolate éclair, ready to start eating.

 

“Which ones are you looking most forwards to?” Wikstrom asked with a smile.

 

“At this moment?” AZ asked, “This pastry. What is it called? Eclair?”

 

“Éclair, yes.” Wikstrom was about to say something else, but all thoughts evaporated when AZ opened his mouth wide to take a piece of the pastry into his mouth. His lips stretched around the around the pastry’s girth in a way that was entirely too lewd for polite company.

 

Finally AZ bit down and moved the éclair away from his lips. AZ closed his eyes and let out a pleased hum as he savoured the bite. Some vanilla custard dribbled down his chin.

 

Now that was just _unfair_.

 

AZ swallowed his mouthful. “Oh goodness,” he said mildly, “I’m making a mess… I swear, I’m not usually this messy,” he added with a sheepish smile as he wiped the custard from his chin with his fingertips. He licked the custard off of his fingertips and looked at Wikstrom. “...Is everything alright?”

 

Wikstrom blinked and shook his head to clear it. Blast it, he was blushing again! “Y-yes, I am fine.”

 

A slow smile stretched AZ’s lips and Wikstrom felt himself get redder. “Are you sure? You are looking rather flushed now.” AZ set the pastry on a plate and leaned closer. “You’re not falling ill, are you?”

 

Wikstrom blinked, stunned to silence. AZ used the moment to lean even closer and rest his forehead on Wikstrom’s.

 

AZ hummed gently. “You don’t feel warm,” he said. He bent his head and pressed his lips against Wikstrom’s briefly.

 

Wikstrom’s cheeks flushed more and he leaned back. “AZ!” he whispered, scandalized.

 

AZ backed off, chastised. “Too forward? I thought that is how it is done these days…”

 

Wikstrom blinked. “Is _what_ done…?”

 

AZ looked to the side, suddenly bashful. ”Courting,” he said quietly.

 

Wikstrom’s eyes widened as the word sank in.

 

**5.**

 

Wikstrom woke up, enveloped in warmth. He hummed and rolled around to look at the source of warmth. AZ was still asleep, his thin, tall frame curled around Wikstrom’s shorter and wider one.

 

They had been courting for months now. They had agreed to take things slow since they were both old-fashioned souls, and this was the first time they had shared a bed together. No sex, just sleeping. AZ had been hesitant, but Wikstrom had convinced him that no one would care about their reputations if they spent the night together.

 

And now that Wikstrom was watching AZ’s sleeping face, he was very happy that AZ had agreed to stay. Gently, he caressed one of the many lines under his eye with a calloused fingertip.

 

AZ stirred and hummed sleepily, moving his hand to wrap his impossibly long fingers around Wikstrom’s. Slowly, his visible eye opened and blinked, gaze still dull from sleep.

 

He was so beautiful.

 

AZ hummed and burrowed into his pillow. “G’mornin’,” he murmured.

 

“Good morning, handsome,” Wikstrom replied, feeling his cheeks heat up yet again.

 

AZ smiled, making Wikstrom blush more. “Handsome? Funny hearing that coming from someone who is a feast for eyes as yourself.”

 

Wikstrom chuckled, blushing even more. “Come now.”

 

AZ smiled and kissed him. “It’s true,” he whispered against Wikstrom’s lips.

 

Wikstrom nuzzled to his chest to hide his blush.

 

**+1**

 

They had been together (“courting,” like AZ and Wikstrom said, or “dating,” like Duchess Serena said) for almost a year now. They had just spent a passionate night together and now they were basking in the afterglow, enjoying the closeness while sweat was cooling on their skins. AZ’s head was resting on Wikstrom’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and absently drawing meaningless shapes on Wikstrom’s skin with his fingertips.

 

Gently, Wikstrom grasped the digits and brought them to his lips, pressing a kiss onto each one of them. “ _I want to stay faithful, guard your honor_ ,” he said. He felt AZ shift a bit. “ _Seek peace, obey_ ,” Wikstrom continued, “ _serve and honor you. Until death, Peerless Lady._ ”

 

AZ lifted his head, propping his chin to Wikstrom’s chest. There was a somewhat puzzled look in his eye.

 

Wikstrom smiled at him and continued reciting the poem: “ _For I love you so much, truly,_ _that one could could sooner dry up the deep sea and hold back its waves than I could constrain myself from loving you._ ”

 

AZ’s eye widened and a faint hint of color rose to his cheeks.

 

“ _Without falsehood; for my thoughts, my memories, my pleasures and my desires are perpetually of you, whom I cannot leave or even briefly forget._ ”

 

As Wikstrom spoke on, the color on AZ’s face got deeper and deeper, until AZ hid his face to Wikstrom’s neck. “Stop it,” he said, smile in his voice.

 

Wikstrom chuckled, carding AZ’s snow white hair. “ _There is no joy or pleasure, or any other good that one could feel, or imagine which does not seem to me worthless…_ ”

 

“Cease your mouth, villain,” AZ chuckled.

 

“Make me, my liege,” Wikstrom shot back.

 

AZ lifted his head, giving Wikstrom a look. There was a moment heavy with tension between them, before AZ closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Wikstrom’s lips.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Wikstrom be like "I hope AZ-senpai notices me"
> 
> The song AZ was singing: http://www.luminarium.org/medlit/medlyric/alisoun.php  
> The poem Wikstrom recited: http://www.love-poetry-of-the-world.com/medieval-love-poetry-de-machaut2.html


End file.
